


twice bitten, once shy

by warsfeil



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: A/B/O, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 17:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warsfeil/pseuds/warsfeil
Summary: The twins are omegas, which is all well and good until Sora Harukawa abruptly realizes that he's an Alpha when they go into heat. Things don't quite go as planned.





	twice bitten, once shy

**Author's Note:**

> written as a commission.

“What’d you get for the third problem?” Hinata asks, leaning over the table to look for himself rather than waiting for an answer. It puts him squarely in Yuuta’s space, which isn’t that much of a problem on a regular day, but today they’re guests in someone else’s house, and Yuuta yelps when Hinata’s invasion sends him off balance. He careens to the floor with less grace than he’d usually manage, attention preoccupied by the math problem he’d been attempting to solve. 

“Yuu-chan?” Sora peers over, gaze locking with only one twin. Sora leans down, bracing himself on the table and looking underneath it until he can make eye contact with the other. Yuuta looks half-defeated, lying on the floor of Sora’s bedroom like a tired starfish.

“I’m fine,” Yuuta says, automatically. “I wasn’t done with the third problem yet, aniki…” 

“Oh,” Hinata says. He offers an arm out, and Yuuta takes it, allowing himself to be pulled back up as Hinata sits back down on his cushion, a practiced sort of synchronicity to it. Sora raises himself back up, too, dropping his elbows onto the table. 

“What’d you get?” Hinata asks. He doesn’t lean as dramatically over the table to get to Sora’s paper, slightly more restrained when it comes to someone who isn’t directly related to him.  
“35!” Sora answers, cheerfully.

“48?” Hinata echoes, looking down at his own paper with a pensive expression.

“Neither of those is right,” Yuuta says, holding his paper in his hands and then foregoing it in favor of holding his _head_ in his hands, instead. 

“Mmm,” Sora hums, leaning forward and considering both twins. “I may have it wrong.” He can see the frustration building, the color of Hinata’s easy lack of tension mixing with Yuuta’s lack of calm to combine back out into an automatic mirroring. 

“It’s hard to think when it’s so _warm_ ,” Hinata says. He gives his paper another look, then sighs, throwing himself down onto the floor in a recreation of Yuuta’s earlier pose. 

“Is it? Sora didn’t think it was too hot inside,” Sora says, leaning back. It wasn’t that hot, indoors or out, but maybe he just wasn’t feeling it the same way.

“It’s a little warm,” Yuuta agrees. “Aniki, get up, we’re here to _study_.”

“I’m taking a break until I cool off,” Hinata replies, flopping his arm over his eyes like it will help shield him from the apparent heat of Sora’s bedroom light. After a second, he stirs again, reaching up to grab at the collar around his neck that marks him as an omega, fumbling with the smartlock until it recognizes his fingerprint. “It’s too hot to wear this right now…” 

“Sora will get snacks,” Sora offers, launching himself to his feet in an easy jump. “That will help cool everyone down!” 

Yuuta’s “you don’t have to” is quickly drowned out by Hinata’s “thanks, Sora-kun!”, and Sora hums to himself as he heads out of his bedroom, skidding with practiced ease down the wood floors of his home to the kitchen. It doesn’t take him very long -- his house has enough snacks for the study group a couple times over, if he’s being honest -- but he fills the glasses with tea and ice, gathering everything onto the tray to take it back to his room. He’s distracted at the last second when the phone rings, and he keeps an eye on the ice to make sure it doesn’t melt too much over the course of a short conversation with his mom to reassure her that everything is fine and she can stay out with his sister as long as they want. 

“It took a little longer than--” Sora starts, as he nears his door, and then _stops_ , because something is different. He can’t exactly quantify it right away, but everything feels like it’s a different color, brighter than usual, bolder than usual in a way that he has no experience with. He pushes the door open with his foot, suddenly concerned that something isn’t just different but horribly wrong, and a blinding wave of smell falls over him almost instantly.

“--Hina-chan?” Sora asks. His grip on the tray falters, and he nearly drops it. Hinata practically teleports over, taking the tray before any disasters strike. 

“Sorry, it’s--” Hinata starts. He cascades backwards, sliding the tray onto the table and hitting the ground next to his brother. Sora’s eyes don’t quite want to focus on anything except the twins, bright and blinding and in startling detail compared to the blur that the rest of the room is.

“What’s wrong?” Sora says. He drops back down to his knees, hard enough that they send a brief registration of pain up to his brain that’s immediately ignored in favor of reaching out, putting a hand on Hinata’s shoulder. Hinata feels hot to the touch, like he might burn Sora’s skin if Sora lingers too long, and Sora feels a deep-seated drive to _fix_ it even though he doesn’t have any idea what’s even wrong. “Are you sick?”

“It’s a heat,” Yuuta says, softly. He’s crumpled forward onto the table, resting his head against it like someone slowly dying of thirst, and when he speaks he doesn’t turn his head, words muffled.

“Oh,” Sora says, even though he doesn’t quite understand. Everyone in his family has been a beta going back at least three generations, so heats and prey drives are things that other people have to deal with -- not him. He only has the barest knowledge of it all, but he doesn’t know how much he can help.

“We can’t stay out like this, aniki,” Yuuta says, and there’s a hitch of desperation in his voice, quietly contained stress that threatens to spill over at any moment. He does turn, this time, and Sora can see the flush of the heat on his face, dipping down his throat; he can see the way Yuuta’s mouth is parted open, like he can’t quite catch his breath. 

Sora thinks for a moment about what would happen if they walked outside right now, smelling the way that they do, _looking_ the way that they do, and he feels something spark in his stomach, red hot and furious in a way that he isn’t used to at all.

“Stay here,” Sora says, with a sharp note in his voice that he doesn’t think he’s ever heard before. Hinata is leaning into the hand on his shoulder, automatic and easy, and Sora reaches out to lean in closer, to put his other hand on Yuuta’s arm, to smell more of that intoxicating rainbow that’s coming up from them both. Yuuta shivers at his touch, and Sora doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“Sora-kun is a beta, right?” Hinata’s voice is a little off. “So it’s safe here--”

“Mm-hmm.” Sora hums his agreement. “How long does it last? You can stay in Sora’s room. Everyone in Sora’s family is a beta!”

It _sounds_ like a plan to Sora, in as much as he can plan for something he’s never experience. Yuuta rolls himself back upright, and Sora’s eyes can’t help but follow the clean line of his throat, exposed without protective collars or distracting headphones. There’s a bead of sweat that rolls down Yuuta’s neck, vanishing into the fabric of his uniform, and Sora’s breathing stutters, just a little.

“A couple days,” Yuuta says, and he sounds a little frantic about it, leaning forward onto his brother’s shoulder. “The first day is the worst.”

“I thought we had more time,” Hinata says, leaning back against Yuuta, each supporting the other. Hinata moves in to nuzzle at Yuuta, and for a second all Sora can see is the skin of their neck, the color of their hair, the thick feeling of _wanting_ deep in his chest. His hands slip away from them both, retracting back onto himself.

“Sora--” Sora says, and cuts off, because the feeling of not touching them is almost overwhelming, a sharp wash of revolting color across his vision that tries to black out the faces of the twins. “Sora--” he tries again, but he can only imagine the feel of their skin under his hands, the taste of them in his mouth, the sounds of them in heat and moaning and--

“Harukawa-kun,” Yuuta says, and all Sora can see are blinding emerald eyes. “When-- when were you tested?”

“Sora wasn’t,” Sora says, and the realization is growing in his chest in sharp, staccato beats of anxiety and arousal and _need_. “Everyone-- because everyone in Sora’s family was--”

“You’re an alpha,” Hinata says, and there’s a note of fear in his voice that makes Sora lean away, tears through him like a knife.

“Sora didn’t know!” Sora scrambles to his feet quickly enough that he slams his elbow against the table, and the noise is loud in the room. Yuuta slips backwards off his brother, and for a second Sora imagines leaning down on top of him, pressing him further down into the floor-- _no_! “Sora won’t--” He cuts off, pressing his palms down over his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the sheer overwhelming amount of feelings he’s perceiving in a dizzying whirl. 

“It’s okay,” Hinata says, and Hinata is there, standing in front of Sora again, reaching his hands out to flatten over Sora’s. 

Sora almost stops breathing, because Hinata smells so good and so tempting.

“Hina-chan,” Sora says, and it’s a little bit like a plea. He hears a quiet _aniki_ from Yuuta, but it doesn’t sound scared, doesn’t have the same hysteria to it. 

Then soft lips press against Sora’s, and his thinking shorts out entirely. Hinata tastes like everything Sora has ever wanted in his life, sweet and tempting and so much that Sora doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do anything but kiss back. It takes all of his willpower not to grab Hinata’s hands, not to pull him closer, but he won’t, he won’t do anything that would make that sound of fear creep back into Hinata’s voice. 

Hinata pulls away, and even if Sora can’t see him, he can feel the hot breath that Hinata breathes back out, scarce centimeters from his face. 

“Sora-kun wouldn’t hurt us,” Hinata says, and lets his hands drop. The world is blinding, when Sora opens his eyes; he can see Hinata in front of him, Yuuta still sitting at the table, his attention riveted on them both. 

“Sora wouldn’t,” Sora agrees, because hurting them is the furthest thing from his mind right now. 

Yuuta swallows, then nods, like he’s come to a decision. He stands up, stepping over to where Hinata and Sora are across the room. One of the glasses of tea clinks against itself as the ice melts, background noise that Sora can barely focus on.

“I,” Yuuta says, slowly, giving the words a little more care than usual, “trust you.”

Hearing that from an omega would probably be overwhelming on its own, but hearing it from _Yuuta_ when he’s looking at Sora like that, trusting and needy and so, so warm -- Sora can feel every part of him leaping to attention.

“Can Sora kiss Yuu-chan, too?” Sora asks, and part of him is waiting for a rejection, but all of him is hoping for an affirmative. 

“Yeah,” Yuuta says. He doesn’t lean forward like Hinata did, he lets Sora take the lead, slow and fumbling. Sora keeps his eyes open until the last second, waiting to make sure that Yuuta won’t pull back, waiting to make sure he doesn’t see a trace of the color of fear around Yuuta, but it never comes, and their lips meet, instead.

It’s just as electric as it was with Hinata. Yuuta isn’t the same -- kissing him after kissing Hinata is like a sequel to a story that Sora already loved, sweet and everything that Sora could have wanted. Sora is the one to pull away from the kiss, this time; he feels like if he keeps going he’s going to forget to breathe. It’s only once he draws back that he realizes he’s holding Yuuta, that his arms went to Yuuta’s hips without him even realizing, that he’s holding him in place without even meaning to.

Sora drags himself backwards, and the feeling of not being in contact with Yuuta or Hinata is almost like falling into a cold lake.

“Sora-kun--”

“Sora doesn’t want,” Sora says, softly, and then repeats himself a little louder, making eye contact with one twin and then the other. “Sora doesn’t want to, to--”

“I want you to,” Hinata interjects. “So unless you don’t want to--”

“We can go,” Yuuta says, still hovering where he stands like he’s waiting to be kissed again. 

“No!” Sora’s exclamation startles himself as much as it startles the twins. He can’t _help_ it -- if the twins are so tempting to him, then he knows the second they leave, more alphas than just him would descend on them, stronger alphas, alphas that they might not be able to fight off. He takes a step closer to them, hesitantly reaching back out. They both reach out in that same attuned synchronicity, grabbing his outstretched hands. They pull him forward, and each twin nestles easily against him like they were made to fit there. 

“It’s a lot to take in,” Yuuta says, softly, “but if you wanted to be-- _our_ alpha--”

Sora blurts _yes_ without thinking, because the feeling is an automatic instinct that tells him that he’s never wanted anything more in his entire life.

“We want that, too,” Hinata says, and the words are warm against Sora’s neck. It’s being granted permission, and even if Sora is still afraid it might be rescinded at any second (he doesn’t know the first thing about being an alpha, not really), every muscle in Sora’s body is moving forward to kiss Hinata again in a blur of lips and tongue and primal desperation. 

Yuuta is the one that manages to steer them towards the bed, and Sora’s not really sure how any of them stayed upright for the dozen or so feet it took, but they manage to get there safe and only fall at the last minute, dropping down against Sora’s comforter. It’s then that Sora feels that his own arousal is being mirrored in Hinata, and Hinata flushes as red as his hair, squirming underneath the hard line of Sora’s body. The motion just makes it _worse_ , and Sora doesn’t mean to, but he makes a noise, startled and aroused. It feels so good even through their clothes, and Hinata’s hips buck upwards when Sora presses down. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Yuuta says, softly, from behind Sora, and then there’s hands on Sora’s body, reaching up to slide cautiously over Sora’s shoulders, down his arms. 

“Sora doesn’t have enough hands,” Sora says, without thinking; his attention is on Hinata underneath him, on Yuuta behind him, on the relentless assault of feelings that are pounding down on him. 

“You have too many _clothes_ ,” Hinata responds, and Sora can feel himself flush. He shifts himself up, knee planted firmly between Hinata’s legs on the bed, and starts to pull off his shirts. He isn’t body shy, but it’s different like this, with Yuuta’s warm hands on his hips and Hinata’s gaze like a weight on him. 

Sora swallows, the momentary bravado leaving him a little, and looks at Hinata. He casts another look back, over his shoulder, meeting Yuuta’s gaze with careful decision. “Now it’s Hina-chan and Yuu-chan’s turn,” he says, softly, because he doesn’t want to pressure them into anything -- he’s heard it can be hard for omegas to resist the command of an alpha, and he doesn’t want to risk that -- but it seems like they were both waiting for it. Hinata’s hands go to his shirt almost immediately, and before Sora can even think to say anything else, Hinata’s fingers are undoing his belt, pushing his pants down over his hips and leaving him completely exposed.

Sora’s throat goes dry, and he moves forward without meaning to, pressing his hands against Hinata’s stomach, down the freshly exposed skin of his thighs. He doesn’t dare touch HInata’s cock, not yet, he just wants to _look_ at it first, take it in. It’s already hard, wet at the tip and jutting out, and Sora feels that hunger in him again, deep and primal and overwhelming.

“You can do more than just look,” Hinata says, breathlessly.

Sora does. He wraps his fingers around Hinata’s cock, gentle and cautious, aiming for the same sort of hold he’d do to himself. It seems to be the right idea, because Hinata’s hips jerk and he lets out a startled, low noise, hand scrabbling at Sora’s comforter.

“Is it bad?” Sora asks, and Hinata shakes his head so quickly it whips across his face.

“It’s -- it’s really good,” Hinata says, and he’s making little motions with his hips, small rolls that feel like he’s aborting them before they become true movement. “It’s really good, Sora-kun, but I want-- I want more--”

“Aniki,” Yuuta says, and when he slips up onto the bed, he’s naked too, leg pulled up to preserve his modesty a little more. “You don’t get to go first just because you’re the oldest!”

“Sora can take care of both,” Sora blurts, without really thinking about it, because of course they come as a package deal. He can feel Hinata’s cock jerk in his hand, and he can hear Yuuta’s breath shake, and so Sora reaches out until he finds Yuuta’s wrist, pulls him in closer and kisses him while his hand moves across the surface of Hinata’s cock.

It isn’t a very practiced maneuver, but that doesn’t seem to _matter_ much when a heat is concerned, because Hinata falls back against the bed automatically. Sora’s attention is split between the two of them, between Yuuta’s tongue in his mouth and Hinata’s dick in his hand and he feels like everything is so much more than he had ever anticipated. 

“Sora-kun,” Hinata says, breathlessly. “Stop, I--”

Sora stops automatically, withdrawing from the kiss to look at Hinata. There’s an automatic fear there, that he’s gone too far, that he’s upset Hinata -- but he realizes that isn’t it at all the second he looks at him, flushed and spread out on Sora’s bed.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll,” Hinata says, and Sora puts his hand on Hinata’s thigh, instead, watches Hinata roll up as if he’s still seeking the stimulation of Sora’s hand. “I want to come with you inside me,” he blurts, and then covers his mouth, looking so uncharacteristically embarrassed that Sora can’t help but surge up and kiss him.

“Hina-chan is really cute,” Sora says, but it doesn’t seem to do much to alleviate Hinata’s embarrassment. 

“You should,” Yuuta says, slipping back up alongside them. “I -- I want it, too, so--”

Sora doesn’t know how anyone is supposed to say no to something like that. Do people say no to things like that? His pants are rapidly becoming so restrictive that it borders on painful, and so he leans back, hesitating for only a second before he shucks them off, joining the growing pile of clothes next to the bed. 

“Oh, wow,” Yuuta says, and he leans in a little closer to Sora. Sora isn’t quite sure what’s so “wow” about taking his pants off, but when Hinata sits up, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Sora has to fight down the urge to kiss him again.

“That’s huge,” Hinata says. 

“Is it?” Sora asks, and then: “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Hinata says, reaching out to drag his finger across the tip. Sora is a little embarrassed with how hard he already is, but he doesn’t think it matters quite as much when both of the brothers are equally hard. Still, the noise that leaves his mouth when Hinata’s finger makes contact is… 

“The heat,” Hinata says, slowly, softly. He isn’t usually the kind of person to be nervous or shy, but there’s something restrained in his eyes when he looks at Sora. “It won’t go away unless you knot me.”

Sora’s dick throbs uncomfortably hard at the thought. “Okay,” he says, because if that’s what Hinata wants, what Hinata needs, and it’s what Sora wants, then there isn’t any reason not to. 

“Aniki,” Yuuta says, “I’ll show him how.”

“Yeah,” Hinata says, and Sora isn’t quite sure what’s happening for a moment -- Hinata is moving, shifting up onto his hands and knees and facing away from Sora, and Yuuta is moving up alongside Sora in a flash of heat and color.

“He doesn’t need much,” Yuuta says, looking at Sora. Yuuta’s hands move up, spreading Hinata’s ass. He’s already wet, slick with his own desire, the evidence of his heat there for Sora to see. “But since we’ve never -- with an alpha before.”

Sora nods, even though he’d be lying if he said he fully understood the prep that goes into being an omega, to taking a cock, to taking a _knot_. Yuuta’s fingers rub against the slick and then he presses two of them into Hinata at once, and Sora regrets that he can’t see his face so sharply that he almost asks him to turn around. Hinata moans, ragged and low, and drops further down to press his face into Sora’s pillows. 

“Like this,” Yuuta says, softly, and moves his fingers a little, spreading them. He adds a third, and Sora’s attention is riveted to the way Hinata’s thighs quake, the way Yuuta bites his lower lip in concentration. 

“That’s enough,” Hinata says, before Yuuta can get much further, before Sora can even try. “I want it-- please--”

Sora doesn’t need to hear Hinata beg like that. 

“Sora wants to see Hina-chan’s face,” Sora says, softly, reaching up to drag his hands down the outside of Hinata’s thighs as Yuuta withdraws. Hinata doesn’t move, and for a long second Sora thinks that maybe he won’t. Then he does, rolling over and reaching out for Sora.

“Sora-kun,” Hinata says, a plea in his voice, and Sora moves forward automatically. Hinata’s hand reaches out and wraps back around Sora’s dick, and Sora barely has any time to process before Hinata is leading him up to sink inside him.

The idea of going more slowly flashes up into Sora’s mind, but he barely has time to process it before it’s gone, chased away by the impossibly hot feeling of Hinata wrapping around him.

“Hina--” is all Sora manages to get out before Yuuta is kissing him, needy and desperate in a way that Sora doesn’t think he was before. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of Hinata underneath him and Sora pressed against him, and Sora barely has time to look at either of them before he’s moving nearly without any input from his brain, slowly pulling back to sink into Hinata.

“Like that,” Hinata says, breathless, all his consonants soft in the air. 

Yuuta leans forward, breaking the kiss to wrap his hand around Hinata’s dick, and Sora feels a strange surge of possessiveness that he didn’t expect. It’s quelled almost immediately -- if there’s anyone Sora shouldn’t be jealous of, it’s the relationship the twins have -- but he can’t quite keep it out of the way he snaps back up harder, surging further into Hinata.

Hinata _shouts_ , this time, and it’s Yuuta that groans, soft and breathless in Sora’s ear.

“Sora is,” Sora manages to say, voice betraying him when he needs it the most. He doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be this fast his first time, but it is, it’s slamming into him and he can feel it building with every grind of he and Hinata’s bodies together, with the way Yuuta’s hand is splayed across Sora’s back with his other one still wrapped around Yuuta’s cock. Hinata’s legs are wrapping up around him, pulling him closer, pulling him deeper. 

“Me too,” Hinata says, and he’s reaching out for Sora, pulling him in closer until Sora doesn’t know what body parts belong to who in the tangle of three people, and he doesn’t _care_. He comes, blinding bright enough that he can see it even with his eyes closed, and bites down without thinking. 

Hinata makes a ragged moan underneath him, and Yuuta is making a noise too, startled and loud, and Sora can feel something hot spilling across both their stomachs, can feel hands on his back and his shoulder, but it takes him a few seconds to come back to himself, to manage to restart his brain that feels like it’s entirely frayed out. 

“Oh,” Yuuta says, as Sora tries to push himself up with arms that feel unnaturally weak and fails. Hinata is still breathing hard underneath him, eyes wide and glued to Yuuta. Yuuta is next to them both, a hand pressed to his neck where Sora can see the imprint of teeth, and--

“Sora will take care of you,” Sora blurts without thinking. Their collars are still across the room, shed before they’d realized what their heat was, before they’d realized what Sora was, and Sora feels so stupid now but he’s done it and even _he_ knows what it means to bite an omega like that.

“Me, too,” Hinata says, before Sora can get very far into feeling guilty. “Bite me, too-- while you’re still inside me--”

There isn’t any anger on Yuuta’s face, and Sora can still feel his knot inside Hinata, tying them together in a way that makes it impossible to leave. Sora hesitates for a split second -- can alphas have more than one omega like this, is it different when it’s twins, is their color going to change -- and then leans forward, setting his teeth on Hinata’s neck and biting down. He doesn’t remember doing it to Yuuta in the midst of his orgasm, but he can feel this, knows instinctively how to do it, and when Hinata cries out it doesn’t sound pained at all. 

“Was that right?” Sora asks, when he pulls away, the salty taste of Hinata’s skin still on his tongue. Hinata doesn’t even bother to bring a hand up to the marks, just nods, absently, letting his breath out in a little puff.

“It’ll raise into a real mark later,” Hinata murmurs. He shifts his hips a little, and Sora winces; he’s getting softer, but he isn’t all the way there yet.

“Harukawa-kun,” Yuuta says, softly. There’s a hint of the earlier desperation in his voice, hesitant hysteria that Sora immediately pinpoints as being because Yuuta’s heat hasn’t lessened at all just because Hinata’s is. “Can you go again?”

Sora doesn’t know. Alphas can, he thinks, but that was the first time he’s ever had sex, and the idea of doing it again is -- 

“Pull out before you get hard again,” Hinata says, shifting underneath Sora.

“Sora can,” Sora says, and pulls out. His dick appears to agree very eagerly to the idea of going again, but the rest of his body won’t quite cooperate. He rolls off Hinata, instead, sliding out with a sound that’s going to stick in his mind for the rest of eternity. There isn’t really enough room in the bed for them, but Hinata manages to pull himself upright and wiggle down towards the foot of the bed. 

“I’ll help you,” Yuuta says, swinging one leg over Sora until he can straddle him. It’s a new vantage point, looking up at Yuuta like this, and Sora can feel arousal start to build back up in his stomach automatically, spreading warmth through his veins like Yuuta is setting him ablaze. 

“Doesn’t, doesn’t Yuu-chan need to--”

“I already did,” Yuuta says, and there’s just the barest flush on his cheeks, now. He’s less embarrassed than he was, earlier, even if he’s wet all the way down his thighs. “I wanted to be able to-- as soon as you were ready--”

Sora’s thighs hurt, his arms feel like jello, his mind feels wrung out and overstimulated, but his dick is still twitching at Yuuta’s words, working its way back up to hardness. 

Yuuta plants a hand on the bed next to Sora, reaches down, and takes both of their dicks in his other hand. Yuuta’s is a hard, hot line against Sora’s half-erection, but Yuuta’s hand strokes them both up and down. He manages to do it twice before Hinata descends back on them, and Sora marvels at the way Hinata has thrown off the post-orgasm lethargy when Hinata bats Yuuta’s hands away.

“I’ll do this part,” Hinata says, and he can devote a hand to each of them. With every stroke, Yuuta makes a little breathy _ah_ noise, his hips jerking and his arm shaking where it’s trying to steady him on the bed. He leans into his brother, and then he licks a stripe up the side of Hinata’s neck, square in the center of the slowly raising red lines of Sora’s bite. If Sora wasn’t hard before, he certainly is _now_ , groaning quietly and managing to summon the energy to grab at Yuuta’s hips. 

“Ready,” Sora says, like it’s the next level of a video game except the aim is for everyone to get a total orgasm KO. Yuuta doesn’t waste any time; Hinata steadies Sora’s cock and Yuuta sinks himself down agonizingly slow, legs squeezing on either side of Sora.

“You’re so big,” Yuuta manages, sounding a little hoarse, like he’s been on stage performing for hours without a break. Sora doesn’t know what to say in response to that -- he can’t think of a single thing at the moment, because this moment is just feelings, colors cascading over him like a dizzying kaleidoscope, and all Sora can do is hold onto Yuuta’s hips. 

“Yuu-chan,” Sora murmurs, soft and keening even to his own ears, and Yuuta leans down to kiss him even while his knees dig rivers into the bed to give him enough leverage to thrust. This time, Sora is the one to wrap his hand around Yuuta, to curl it like it’s his own. Yuuta moans into Sora’s lips, mouth open, and Sora feels like if he hadn’t just come he would do it again at the sound of that alone.

Leaning down means Yuuta can’t quite get the motion right, so he breaks the kiss, stretches back up with his back arched as he bears down on Sora’s cock. Sora wonders if he could feel himself inside Yuuta if he pressed on his stomach, wonders if he can stay inside the heat forever. He claimed them both, that means they’re _his_ now, so he can do this again -- right? The thought makes that possessiveness rear its head again inside of him, but he’s saved from thinking about it too much by Hinata kissing him instead.

Yuuta comes first, spilling across Sora’s hand with a cry, and it’s the feeling of Yuuta shaking to a halt, every muscle inside of his body clamping down on Sora that drags Sora’s second orgasm out of him. He isn’t sure how there’s anything left, but he can feel himself coming again, as bright as the first; he hopes he fills Yuuta as thoroughly as he did Hinata, hopes his knot binds them together as surely as his bite, hopes that neither of them has to leave. He thinks everything in the span of a few seconds that seem to drag on forever, and when he comes back down each twin is nestled in on either side, Yuuta and Sora still connected.

“Can we stay the night,” Hinata says, and it isn’t quite a question, mumbled into Sora’s neck. 

“Sora will ask,” Sora promises, but he doesn’t think he has the energy to do that until later. They should clean up, they should shower, but all of that feels so far away when they’re both so warm and so close.

Sora reaches up, traces his fingers down the bite mark on Yuuta’s neck with the hand that isn’t caught between them. 

“Does it feel better now?” he asks, cautiously. “Did Sora help?”

He can feel Hinata smile against him, lips pressed to his bare shoulder. “Sora-kun helped a ton,” Hinata says, softly, and Yuuta mumbles something vaguely recognizable as agreement. 

Sora hums in response, nuzzling down into orange hair with a newfound sense of contentment.


End file.
